In Your Service
by Coffee and War
Summary: Merlin thinks too much, sometimes. He considers who exactly is serving whom in this situation, and if he'd really have it any other way. Slight reference to ArthurxMerlin, but nothing explicit.


Completed **June 23rd, 2009**.

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_'In Your Service'_

Merlin isn't really good at thinking.

He knows this, and sometimes he reminds himself of this fact, when, say, he's thinking a little too much about things he's sure he shouldn't even be wondering about. Things like how stunning Prince Arthur looks in the first trickles of dawn: half-dressed and half-coherent but still somehow fully, utterly, completely noble.

Of course, this leads him to think about how he really shouldn't be in _Prince_ Arthur's room this early all the time, but he's not entirely sure that's always his fault-and. So on and so forth. He doesn't really know what this thinking and all the things he ends up thinking about actually really means, but when he listens to Arthur take in the morning air and exhale, and in that breath Merlin hears all of Arthur's wishes- those of a future Albion, where, for some bizarre reason, Arthur seems to position Merlin two steps behind-no, beside the once and future king.

Sometimes, Merlin thinks that Arthur wants them a little closer than that.

Thinking about _that_ too hard gives Merlin a hard time in all sorts of other ways, and then he really tries not to think about that too much either.

One thought Merlin keeps trailing back to is the idea of service. He's begun to think that sometimes he's not the one serving Arthur, and, well. _That doesn't make any sense_, he thinks, _and I'm relatively sure Gaius would agree._ Even if Gaius would probably disagree on most of the things that had been racing through his mind lately.

Some days Arthur stumbles out of the castle before dawn with a surprising amount of grace (that Merlin didn't know he was capable of, or maybe he did, considering some of the things Merlin thought about in his dreams between twilight and the breaking of said dawn-) and wanders off to do unspeakably heroic deeds, leaving behind an angry, frustrated Merlin who fully understands the idea of sacrifice and protection but, damnit, did he have to take off again and leave uncertainty in the place of his warm, surprisingly gentle form?

Probably.

Merlin thinks- no, he _knows_ that as Prince Arthur, no- even just plain Arthur, that acts as unbearable as that are his duty, his destiny. Merlin accepts this, begrudgingly, but this doesn't stop him from grumbling about it to himself and occassionally to Gaius using thinly-veiled phrases such as "hypothetically speaking" and "what if I know a guy, who knows a guy..."

Merlin thinks about a lot of unnecessary things, he thinks- but at least he's never considered coming back to the Dragon for any sort of advice on these matters. He shudders at the thought of this, unsure of whether or not if it's out of anticipation of the sort of wicked confirmation he knows the Dragon will offer him.

Anyway, Merlin thinks- deliberately this time- that Arthur does a lot more serving than he realises. After all, Arthur did tolerate him to some extent and he had often been told that that was a saintly act in itself. At first Merlin was furious with himself (a surprisingly self-reflective and clever reaction, even he must admit), at how much he was simply just fading into Arthur's life. Into the Dragon's cursed, irritating concept of destiny. He realises after a while, that, no- fading is really not the word for the sort of thing that went on, and that intertwining was really more of the ticket.

At the thought of that, things get a little foggy in Merlin's mind again and he pushes out the echoes of round tables and peace and unity and unity and together and together and- or he wishes he could push them out of his mind, at any rate.

Merlin comes to the conclusion that servitude really isn't all that awful, and maybe even somewhat enjoyable (Gaius, overhearing this absentminded musing simply shakes his head and raises his eyebrow in that way that he does, and offers nothing to alleviate Merlin's mental anguish of having to deal with himself.) if he went about it the right way. If he twisted it around enough, it was like they were serving each other and that idea could be described with all sorts of catch-phrases like "not bad" and maybe even "terrific."

Sometimes the idea that Arthur might be doing all of what he does for him- Merlin- and Albion, yes- but also him, just plain Merlin when you strip him of all his unwanted "gifts" and even tied on his endearingly scruffy neckerchief- dashes through Merlin's mind.

Honestly, then Merlin really just doesn't know what to think anymore.

One time Arthur's body, stiff from the cold found itself pressed up against his out of instinct for survival that time they were on that trip, fighting that one terror. He remembers the way the silence didn't drag on one bit, and that they were perfectly fine not speaking but it was alright if one of them did- Arthur did, quietly and meekly much to everyone's surprise. He told, no, asked, Merlin softly if he thought they were doing the right thing, and Merlin reflexively and dumbly answered, _of course, it bloody eats goats and steps on houses!_ before he realised that Arthur meant something even bigger than that twenty-foot thing with too many heads to count.

Arthur, instead of reprimanding him or even tossing back a retort, just changed his inquiry to: Merlin, do you think I'm doing the right thing?

Merlin stopped thinking then, and just rolled over and wrapped his arms around Arthur's torso in an act of boldness that neither of them ever thought Merlin was capable of and for a moment, everything was alright.

And maybe, Merlin considers, it was the right thing.

He's not sure, but he would like to know what _isn't_ the right thing, because... that felt like it was it.

Merlin doesn't know who is serving who anymore or who is tolerating whose antics and frankly, he wakes up some mornings and decides he doesn't care. He (being uncharacteristically sharp for once) notices that Arthur has firmly concluded the same thing.

e_pilogue._

Arthur stands with his gaze fixed out the window, his breathing barely changing as Merlin stumbles into his chambers without knocking- as per usual. Merlin hesitates by the door as if he hasn't interrupted the Prince a thousand times before, clumsily with a whole-hearted eagerness that even Arthur can't find himself capable of denying.

"Yes, Merlin?" Arthur asks this too often, Merlin notes. Sometimes with a certain degree of concerned sincerity that Merlin can't completely ignore. _It's very difficult to ignore Arthur,_ Merlin simply concludes, as if this is any breaking news or help in any way.

"Nothing," Merlin responds, showing off his usual lopsided grin. Arthur does him yet another service and turns his head, hiding a smile of his own.


End file.
